Jeremy, Never Going Back
by SailorJyushi
Summary: From an abusive home to the streets, what will Jeremy Fitzgerald do with his future alone after being forced out of his home, and ore importantly, who will aid him in these dark days? [contains mystery man!]
1. Leaving This Mess

_"_ _You're gonna stay in here until I let you out, shitbag!"_

The smell of cigarette smoke seared the man's voice who held Jeremy's arm roughly. Jeremy, just over 16, knew not to fight his father and let himself be cramped into the small closet.

Against the boy's pleas, the adult sneered and slammed the closet shut. He heard the door lock, and the key being thrown lazily onto the ground.

Inside, Jeremy felt as though he may suffocate through the smell of the musty closet. He looked around the dark area, looking for a light source, but turned to be unsuccessful. Inside the small room, he felt like a little kid instead of the shy teenager he'd been raised up into.

He knew this closet well ever since his father began locking him within it for "punishment", which was a very rigged system. Although Jeremy tried his best to behave, his father decided to lash his anger out at him at random.

The brunete locked his knees to his chest, rocking himself slightly. A day hadn't gone by since he thought about someone saving him from this abusive home. He hated it there. The house was old and creaky, and his parents didn't care for him much anymore, ever since they started with the alcohol. He could almost remember the house as a child, filled with the smells of home-cooking from his mother, along with the cologne of his father.

About an hour came and gone, and his father had not returned for him, which only spooked the boy more.

Jeremy slowly stood up, feeling for the doorknob. Locked, of course. It suddenly occurred to him that he also heard the keys fall. He kneeled down, looking through the door crack. There, he saw the key to the closet door; his escape.

Using the tips of his fingers, he fished for the ring. Jeremy barely managed to grab it, and reeled it back into the closet. He stood again, carefully opening the door using his new tool.

Opening the door a tad, he made sure the cost was clear of his father. After seeing no sign of him, he left the closet. Jeremy realized this didn't mean he was free quite yet, and snuck out of the room.

After arriving downstairs, he saw his father's hand hanging off the side of the living room couch. Instantly, he hesitated, feeling his heart thumping loudly in his chest, knowing he would be caught. Though, he became aware after a few moments, that the man hadn't turned to him. Quiet snores were heard from the seating area, and Jeremy soon realized that he was passed out drunk.

He let himself calm before contemplating whether or not he would go through with leaving this house forever. Jeremy gazed the chipping walls, the cracking ceiling, and the piles of garbage on the ground from his parents. It was true they couldn't live in a clean home without him constantly picking up trash and empty wine bottles from the floor, but that was simply their own fault. That's it. His decision was made.

He would run away that very night.

Jeremy crept upstairs to his old room, where he grabbed a worn-out backpack. He shoved everything he could fit in there; clothes, socks, underwear, his phone, and wallet. For someone who was thinking hard about this topic for so long, he shook like a scared puppy. _It's for the better,_ he reassured himself, though he couldn't bring himself to believe it.

He snuck to the front door, letting himself out, not daring to look back at the life he was leaving behind as he trudged forward.

 _ **My first story with a nightguard! Who knew?**_

 _ **Also I've been gone forever, sorry,**_

 _ **This will have a part two, so don't worry.**_


	2. Going For Good

As Jeremy walked on to his new environment, his backpack became unbearably heaving against his shoulders.

It was just like school, he thought, trying to remember some good times with his friends.

But thinking back couldn't help distract himself from the question at hand: Where would he stay?

As far as he knew, no friend of his would be so close as to let him stay awhile.

Summer nights were cold, and the streets were no place for shy teenager such as himself.

He looked up, seeing a bus driving up to a late night bus stop for any night owl passengers such as himself.

Without thinking, he began walking up to it.

The bus driver, a Hispanic woman, opened the door for him.

As Jeremy climbed inside, the woman looked at him strangely.

"Hey kid, where's your parents?"

Jeremy stuttered, looking for an answer, but not seeming to get anything out.

After moments of the boy's garble, the woman sighed.

"Alright, where do you wanna go?"

He gulped, picking at the straps of his backpack.

"Anywhere, just not here."

"My last stop is Sparrow Road, you okay if I let you off there?"

He thought for a moment, then nodded.

The woman shrugged. "Okay. Go grab a seat, kid."

Jeremy nodded a thank you, then quickly rushed to the back. It became apparent up to him that only he rode the bus that night.

He slid into a seat, the maroon, scratchy material pushing against his skin.

Jeremy pulled his backpack onto his lap, shivering.

His sweater hardly fought away the cold, and he longed for warmth.

Slowly, he pulled out his iPod from the bag, slipping two earbuds into his ears.

Jeremy didn't turn on any music, however, and only used the iPod as an excuse to block out noise.

The bus took off, and the boy only half-heartedly shut his eyes.

A shake jolted him awake before Jeremy could even realize he had fallen under a sleep spell.

The bus driver stood, towering him. "I'm sorry to wake you, but I have to let you off here."

Jeremy wiped the sleep away from his eyes, and stood.

"Thank you very much," He said quietly, still half-asleep.

The woman nodded, letting him climb out of the bus.

As Jeremy began to walk onto the sidewalk, he suddenly realized that he hadn't paid the driver.

He looked back, but the bus was already driving off.

Jeremy smiled and warmed up a little, now understanding there was kindness in strangers as well as friends.

And as he turned away from the street, he realized that he hadn't had a clue as to where he was.


	3. Out of the Cold

Jeremy wandered a while before discovering a diner, open until midnight. He decided that he had nowhere in mind to go, and walked inside.

A bell rang and alarmed the few people inside that a new customer had arrived, but the room almost seemed dead.

He seated himself in an empty booth, putting his backpack next to him. Besides the quiet music, the only sounds were slow conversations and the clanking of china.

When Jeremy had been served, he only ordered a cup of coffee to help him wake up. It didn't seem to cross his mind that he hadn't eaten all day.

"Fitzgerald?"

Jeremy looked up to the voice, and found a familiar face peering down at him.

"Mike? It's been a long time!" He exclaimed, recognizing his old friend.

"Man, what're you doing here? You don't live anywhere near this place!"

Jeremy shrugged, unwilling to explain why.

"Mind if I sit?"

"Not at all."

Mike sat across from the other.

"Do your folks know you're out?"

He coughed awkwardly. "N- No... They don't."

A smug smile formed in Mike's lips, but he didn't ask any more questions. Instead, he called for a waitress.

"Yeah, uh, can I get a coffee?" Mike asked her. The woman shook her head. "I'm sorry, but we're actually closing shortly."

"Seriously? Dammit..." He grumbled.

"We're going to have to ask you to leave soon." The waitress explained, leaving a bill for Jeremy.

Jeremy quickly paid it off, and thanked the woman. The two stood and headed outside of the diner.

"So, you still living with your folks?" Mike asked suddenly.

Jeremy hesitated for a moment.

"...I-I guess not."

The other raised an eyebrow. "Where do you live, Jer?"

Jeremy's mind was filled with panic as he searched for answers; he wasn't ready for that question.

A few moments past with no response, and Mike knew what was happening.

"You don't live anywhere, do you?"

"Listen Mike, y- you can't tell anyone-" Jeremy exploded with worry.

"Jeremy, calm down; I won't tell anyone. You wanna crash with me?" He offered, serious-faced.

Jeremy blinked a few times, surprised by Mike's question.

"I mean it; Just stay one night, I promise it's fine." He explained, "C'mon Jeremy, you'll freeze if you stay out."

Convinced, Jeremy slowly nodded..

"Okay... One night." He smiled.

Mike grinned, nodding.

"Now let's get home, it's cold as hell out here."


	4. The Uncaring Duo

Michelle stood over her passed out husband sprawled on the couch, shaking his shoulders.

"Peter, wake up, you bastard!" She'd returned from a gambling session from a casino to discover the front door opened wide.

He groaned, waking up.

"Hey... What the hell, woman?" Peter groaned groggily, sitting up.

Michelle rested her fists on her hips, angrily looking at him.

"What'd you go outside for? The damn door is open!"

Peter shook his head slightly.

"I didn't go outside. I was inside all night."

Michelle eased her expression, confused.

"Well... You put the kid to bed, right?"

"'Course I did. There's no way he could'a..." Peter trailed off.

Without exchanging another word, the two adults hurried upstairs. It was almost as if they were concerned parents instead of the drunken messes they truly were.

There, they found the closet door wide open with various items missing from the Jeremy's bedroom.

"Where the hell is he?!" Peter shouted.

Michelle patted his shoulder.

"Peter, don't worry. The boys' too stupid to live on his own. He'll be back in a few days."

The man shook his head.

"Guess you're right. Let's go get a drink."

 _ **(There will be another chapter posted shortly because this one is very very short!)**_


	5. Safety

Mike pushed the key into the keyhole, opening the front door of his house.

Jeremy stood behind him, cuddled to his own sweater.

He swung the door open, holding it for Jeremy. Jeremy quickly entered, clutching his bag to his chest.

Mike walked inside as well, shutting the door behind him.

Jeremy couldn't help but let the corners of his lips turn upwards.

He scanned the house's inside, happy even though it held dusty shelves and the occasional cobweb.

Meanwhile, Mike removed his jacket, leaving on his pullover hoodie.

"Right," He started, "You hungry?"

Jeremy looked back at Mike, smiling sheepishly.

"Ah... A little bit."

Mike motioned for Jeremy to follow as he suddenly walked down a hall.

"I'm gonna let you get settled in while I make some food." He explained.

Jeremy followed, looking at the wall's photographs as he chased the other.

Soon, the two arrived to a room with a cream color-scheme. In the middle of two opposite walls was a bed, made and ready to be slept in.

"This us the guest room, so you can set up and everything. I'll check up on you when the food is ready."Mike told him. Jeremy nodded, smiling.

"Thank you. I really appreciate everything you're doing for me."

Mike took a second to respond, staring at Jeremy.

"Yeah, 'course!" He shrugged, fake laughing.

Then, he hurried to the kitchen without another word, trying to regain his cool.

After watching Mike go, Jeremy dug into his bag, searching for an item of some sort.

Gingerly, he placed a framed picture on the bookshelf.

A photo of him and his parents, right before everything went downhill.


	6. Confessions

After eating a delicious meal of unevenly cooked pizza rolls, Jeremy was ready for bed.

On his bed, Mike had laid out some basketball shorts and a white T-shirt.

Jeremy changed into them, finding that his body was too small and drowned in the material.

He sighed quietly, feeling very small like a child.

Just then, there was a knock on the door.

"Come in!" Jeremy called out, a bit surprised.

Mike entered the room, smiling to Jeremy.

"Hey. I'm gonna wash your clothes, okay?" Mike said, plucking up Jeremy's black trousers.

"Oh, thank you." Jeremy smiled, crawling into the bed.

Instead of leaving after collecting the clothing, Mike sat down on the end of the bed.

"Jeremy, I want you to tell me something."

A confused expression formed in Jeremy's face.

"What is it? I- Is something wrong?" He asked, not quite understanding the situation.

There was a long pause. "Why did you run away from home, Jeremy?" Mike asked after awhile.

Jeremy felt the food churn in his stomach.

"Mike, you w- wouldn't understand!" Jeremy whimpered.

"Let me understand, I want to know what's going on."

Jeremy gulped. "But-"

"Please," Mike began, "I promise this won't change anything, I just want to help you."

A minute of silence passed before Jeremy calmed.

"Well… When I was in middle school, my parents got h- hooked on alcohol and gambling. I kept trying to g- get them to quit, but they always got very angry with me… Eventually I just couldn't take it anymore and r- ran away…" By the time he finished, Jeremy was shaking like a leaf.

"...Did they ever beat you?" Mike questioned suddenly.

Numbly, he nodded.

Mike gingerly lifted up Jeremy's arm.

"I'm guessing that's why you have all these bruises."

Jeremy sighed quietly.

"That's why fall is my favorite season… All the sw- sweaters help cover them up…"

Mike frowned.

"Jer, I'm really sorry about your folks. You can stay here as long as you'd like, it's no trouble." He put a hand on the younger boy's shoulder.

Jeremy smiled weakly, thanking him.

"Well, you get some rest, okay?" Mike stood up from the bed, grabbing the clothes and walking out the door.

Jeremy turned off his lamp, laying down. He waited until Mike left the room, sighing.

"Damn it, Schmidt… I might be falling for you."


	7. Our New World

Days of being together turned into weeks, and the skinny love between the two only grew. Jeremy was in a much happier state, and his bruises began healed. Mike couldn't think of spending the rest of his life without him.

Jeremy was sitting on the couch, watching television. Mike walked to him, stuffing his wallet into his back pocket.

"I'm gonna go get some groceries, so I'll be back in a bit." He said, then fished his car keys out. Jeremy smiled at him.

"Can you pick up some milk while you're out?"

Mike nodded. "Got it, see ya soon." He headed out the front door to his car, leaving Jeremy behind.

After paying for his groceries, Mike walked out of the shopping center and ino the last roof before he was outside. Just before leaving the store, something had caught his eye: In the mess of flyers stamped onto the wall, Mike saw a paper with Jeremy's unsmiling face. Above it read in bold, large letters: MISSING, IF FOUND CALL 123-4567.

Angered and resentful, he stomped to the flyer and tore it off the wall, shoving into his paper grocery bag.

In a matter of minutes, he returned home, shoving the door open.

"Welcome home Mike-"

Mike stomped in front of the TV, hastily fishing into his bag. Instantly, Jeremy grew concerned.

"Mike?" He tilted his head. Finally, Mike found the flyer and thrust it to Jeremy. Confused and startled, Jeremy took the flyer, examining it.

After identifying the paper, he only mindlessly stared at a corner of the room, eyes widened.

"Jeremy. Jeremy, look at me." Mike gently, yet effectively shook his shoulders.

The brunete shook his head, bewildered.

"If they find me… T-They'll send me back… This can't be h-happening…" His voice cracked at that last word. Jeremy was sure he would die in that house if returned; his parents would be the worst they'd ever been.

His throat felt tight and he struggled to control his breathing, but it failed. Jeremy gripped the chest-fabric of Mike's shirt, wheezing.

It took Mike a moment to assess the elephant in the room, only to discover that Jeremy was having an anxiety attack. Immediately, he put his knowledge to work. Mike sat beside him,

Jeremy's hand still gripping his T-shirt. He placed a hand on Jeremy's right shoulder, and spoke in a firm matter.

"Breath, Jeremy, breath through your nose, c'mon, one…"

Shakingly, Jeremy managed a wheezy breath through his nostrils, then out his mouth as Mike commanded.

"Two seconds, breath through your nose, now slowly exhale from your mouth…"

Slowly, they climbed up the second ladder for Jeremy's breathing.

They stopped at five seconds, then restarted.

In three minutes, Jeremy was calmly breathing.

He weakly smiled at Mike, who seemed to beam with satisfaction.

"Jeremy… They won't find you. I'll be sure of it."

"That's impossible! They're going to bring me back no matter what."

Mike took a moment to answer.

"...Leave town with me. I'm not letting this happen."

Jeremy stared at him, shocked. Half a minute of silence passed them.

"Of course. When do we leave?"

* * *

 **Mmmm surprise**

 _ **its a jeremike**_

 **next chapter is gonna be intense and you'll love it**

 **bye now**


	8. Wreckage

_**(Author's Note: if you dislike violence or are easily triggered, I wouldn't suggest reading this chapter as it will involve a scene with gore)**_

It took the rest of the day to pack what they needed into Mike's hyundai, unfortunately losing most of their furniture. That didn't matter to them, though; they'd find an even better home in the next town. Besides, they were simply happy being with eachother.

"Ready to go?" Mike smiled.

Jeremy nodded, comfortable with leaving the place he once called Hell far behind. He'd leave the country if it meant never being found.

"Okay… After we find somewhere to live, I'll get us a moving truck to get the rest of our stuff." Mike approached the car's driver seat, as Jeremy climbed into the passenger side.

He let the car's engine roar to life, and began on forward.

They were ready to start their lives over together.

Midway through, Mike took Jeremy's hand into his own. Jeremy blushed, staring at their connected hands for a long time. He looked up at Mike, but he was concentrated on the road. After arriving to a red light on an intersection, he smiled at the other. It was obvious that Mike had felt this way for Jeremy all along, but only showed in then.

 _It was a moment they'd never forget._

The traffic light flashed green, and Mike turned back to the road, pushing the gas.

In mere seconds, the car was thrown onto its side, being slammed into by a teen driver who had ignored the lights.

Shattered glass seemed to fall like snow, though everything happened so quickly. The airbags of the car were activated immediately, and thrust into the faces of them both. As the car landed onto the road, a horrible crunching sound filled Jeremy's ears. His side filled with pain and he was sure he had broken something.

After absorbing what had happened, he glanced weakly over to Mike, who had his eyes closed, blood trickling down his nose and lips.

Jeremy felt his stomach knot up as he cried out in horror. He couldn't believe this was happening to him, to Mike.

Tears trickling down his cheeks, he attempted to unbuckle himself from the seat-belt. He whimpered, hands being cut with glass shards.

Jeremy felt a tug on his left hand, which stopped him in his tracks.

He looked down, seeing Mike's hand tightly holding his own.

 _He was alive!_

Though blood ran down Jeremy's arm and onto their hands, he knew he would be okay, as long as Mike was there with him. People gathered in shocked cliques, unsure how to help.

As far as they knew, they couldn't help them directly. A woman called 911, but there was still tension in the air.

Minutes passed like seconds and the prays for recovery only continued.

The last thing Mike saw was ambulance lights flaring before giving himself into a blacked out stage.

 _A day they'd never forget._


	9. Visiting Hours

Of the two, Mike was definitely in the worst stage, but they both were hurting.

Jeremy had fractured two ribs, and Mike had gotten a concussion and a broken leg.

The teenager, Jeremy had discovered, was in a hurry to the hospital himself to visit his sick sister. Funny how life just throws you around, huh? In this toss, it completely threw their lives upside down. Like two rag dolls dreading the playtime.

There wasn't much the doctors could do for Jeremy; they made sure that none of his organs had been effected. To his horror, he was being sent back home since he was just a month from his 18th birthday.

Jeremy sat beside Mike's hospital bed, eyes wide but his mind was somewhere else. Mike was in a heavy sleep from the medicine that the nurses had given him for surgery. He already had a cast, and would remain in it awhile.

He couldn't remember the last time he was in a hospital. It had to be years ago, when his grandmother Fitzgerald died. A silent prayer found Jeremy's lips, dreading the thought of death for Mike. Jeremy put his face into his shaking hands, trying desperately to calm down under the circumstances.

 _White walls. Gray floors. Think. A window. A mint bed. Focus._

Anything to focus on besides Mike would help him, right? He felt like screaming.

 _How could this happen to them? They were going to start their life together, and now Jeremy was being sent back. It all happened in seconds. A trick? A horrible dream? Maybe he was still asleep in the guest room, hallucinating the horrible things that could happen._

"Mr. Fitzgerald?"

He turned to Mike, although he had heard a feminine voice. Disappointment filled his face. Jeremy looked upward to the nurse who held a clipboard, just barely taller because he was seated.

"Your parents have arrived, and they'd like to take you home now." She spoke quietly, voice filled with fake cheer.

Jeremy turned to the door, seeing his parents dolled up and waiting.

He almost had to take a double take; he couldn't remember the last time he had seen his parents look this way. They looked… Normal. Like caring parents who didn't lock their son in a closet for hours.

It took him a moment to understand what was happening. They didn't want Jeremy to have a happily ever after; they were convincing the authorities that they weren't monsters so he'd be sent back. It was all so clear now.

"Well, sport, are you ready to go now?" His father said, which made Jeremy want to throw up.

Instead of responding, he looked to the limp body of Mike, creating a quiet humming sound from the back of his throat. He didn't want to leave, he wanted to stay with Mike. He wanted to be safe again.

Nonetheless, he eventually, yet slowly, stood up. Jeremy was smarter than to think staying would make things any better. He would still get punished once they would arrive home, whatever "home" was. His mother walked to him, resting her arm around his shoulders.

"Let's get outta here." She said quietly to him.

Jeremy stared at Mike, wishing he could be reanimated and somehow save him, but he knew better than to hope for miracles.

* * *

 **haha hey guys**

 **can you um**

 **maybe leave a review**

 **please**


	10. Filth

The car ride home was long and quiet, only the sound of passing cars conquered the silence. The tension in the air was unbearable. Jeremy stared out the car window, feeling hollow inside. There was something inside him that was missing,something important. Maybe when he was in the hospital, the doctors took out his ability to express emotions.

Inside, he was pressured, anxious, fearful, sad, and hollow. Outside, he was the shell of what he used to be. Seeing the things he was hopeful for go down the drain, it just about broke Jeremy. He was now certain that anything his parents did to him would hurt less than seeing Mike almost die.

Soon, the Fitzgerald home came into view. Michelle stepped out along with her husband. Jeremy stayed put, watching them. He didn't want to go inside; he really couldn't bring himself to it.

Michelle left the two, walking to the front door. Peter opened the car door, staring at Jeremy with angry eyes.

"Get out."

Jeremy shook his head uncooperatively.

"I mean it, get out of the car." Peter flared at the boy. He didn't care if he made a scene; the neighbors were too chicken to speak up.

Again, Jeremy didn't respond. He didn't meet his father's eyes.

Peter then grabbed Jeremy's arm, throwing him out of the car and onto the cement as if he were a ragdoll.

Jeremy cried out in pain, his bruised ribs feeling a massive sting as he hit the ground.

"Who do you think you're talking to?! You get inside right now, you rat!"

Jeremy struggled to get onto his feet, his brain pounding in his head. Quickly, he scrambled to the front door, his father shoving him midway.

But he knew better than to hope for miracles, whatever that meant.

* * *

Jeremy dreaded the house, and his father knew it. He also thought long and hard about how to make sure that the boy couldn't escape this time. Of course, he'd have to lay low a while until the authorities would leave them be. Though, he knew Jeremy was too much of a baby to take a stand.

Peter grabbed Jeremy's arm before he could scramble upstairs. In a paranoid matter, he stared at his father's bloodshot eyes. It was hard to meet his gaze, and his breath stung with alcohol. Jeremy wanted to run away, but his scared state kept him still.

"I'm surprised you survived that long on your own, runt. What, did you stay with that Mark guy? Such a disappointment he turned out to be."

It's Mike, and he's the best thing that happened to me, no thanks to you.

Even so, Jeremy remained silent. He obediently nodded as an answer.

"Where'd you get him from?" Peter asked obnoxiously, "He looked like roadkill."

Jeremy only sighed. "He was just in a car accident… It's not his fault."

Peter grunted. "That's not my problem. My point is that I want you to stay away from him. You'd better listen closely to me, boy: I catch you visiting him, I'll make your shitty life even worse."

To prove his point, Peter gave him a shove to the chest. Jeremy yelped out, his ribs being affected massively. Without a second glance, his father walked away, leaving his confused son in his wake.

After moments of standing around, Jeremy left back to the car to collect his things. He had been told that his backpack had been torn apart by the crash, but a few things could still be salvaged.

He dragged the plastic bag of his items (which the nurses had given him) back to his room, unsure what to feel.

Should he be relieved that Mike and him survived, or should he be distraught that he would possibly never see him recover?

It was hard to understand the direction his life was headed now.

* * *

Upon reaching his room, Jeremy discovered that his parents had taken a little visit while he was away. Empty wine bottles scattered the ground, broken glass and furniture thrown around created a pit in his stomach. Slowly, he walked over to his bed, sitting down. He sniffled, reaching into the bag. In a gingerly manner, he pulled out the shattered picture frame of his family, bringing it to his chest.

Jeremy inspected it for a while, turning it around in his fingers. He wasn't sure why he kept that picture anymore, especially since it was now ruined. Regardless, he gently placed it onto his bed side desk, then rolled over on his bed for an dreamless rest.


	11. Juggling Knives

Jeremy awoke to a loud crash on the story below. Still laying down, he searched the room with his eyes. This wasn't the cream-colored room that was at Mike's house…

Where was he?

Another loud bang shook his room. Jeremy groggily took in his surroundings. Ruined furniture, wine bottles, broken glass of framed photographs; Oh, that's right, he was back in hell.

Jeremy sat up in the bed, his ribs hurting unbelievably.

What was happening downstairs? Somehow he knew it was his parents making a racket. He honestly didn't want to find out why.

Unfortunately, ever since Jeremy was little, he would wake up in the night unable to fall back asleep, no matter what he did. He read books, drank warm milk, and tried boring himself with reading old newspaper clippings. No matter what, he'd be wide awake.

Jeremy failed to tire himself after awakening. He reached for his phone, which lay on the desk, preparing for light to fill the dark room. After turning it on and squinting at the brightness, he became aware that someone had texted him 7 times and called him twice.

Mike.

His heart warmed at the care and attention. Mike had thought of him! He wanted to talk to him! Jeremy smiled, opening his text messages app.

 **6:29 pm**

"You feeling okay? I didn't get to see you today. I hope you're doing fine."

 **7:16 pm**

"The hospital food is so gross! You've gotta try it!"

 **7: 42 pm**

"Hey Jeremy, you up?"

 **9:18 pm**

"Do you wanna come over tomorrow?"

There were many more messages he'd received, but his eyes begged him to stop staring at the light without stop. Instead, he began to type.

"I'd love to see you again, but my parents don't want us together… But I can still text you and everything, I'd have to visit you in secret."

No message appeared from Mike after that, though Jeremy had waited a solid 20 minutes, entertaining himself through simple apps like Crossy Road or Terraria. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore, and his phone battery was already on the verge of dying, He shut off his phone and laid motionlessly in bed, begging himself to stop thinking about the earlier events.

Somewhere in the night, somehow, Jeremy had fallen back asleep. The thumps downstairs had stopped and the only sounds in his room was the birds singing just outside the window. Sitting up and rubbing his eyes, Jeremy glanced at the alarm clock.

9:52 am.

He'd never slept in this late.

A knot formed in his gut. Would his parents be angry? Would it mean that he would get punished? He couldn't remember what a morning in the Fitzgerald home was like anymore. Maybe he could quickly slip down and make a very late breakfast.

Jeremy swallowed hard, dangling his legs over the side of the bed. Quickly, he maneuvered himself onto his feet, ignoring the pains in his side. He still wore the blue long sleeved shirt from the hospital's donation clothes, since his own clothes had to be tossed due to the blood.

Soon, he stopped short after arriving to the bottom step. Jeremy heard a voice that he couldn't recognize, a male's voice, unlike his father's.

A visitor?

"And, why did Jeremy run away from home?"

Jeremy swallowed his breath, listening into the conversation.

"Well, my son has been very aggressive ever since he started with the drugs and the alcohol… Michelle and I have been trying to get him away from it, but he must've run away to avoid our rules." Peter said, swallowing hard, an apparent lump in his throat. Jeremy peeked beyond the corner, eyes wide. He couldn't believe his ears.

His parents sat beside the other, across from a man wearing a gray suit. The man scribbled something down on a clipboard, and his parents held hands on the table.

The scene before him was unbelievably fake, yet the man bought every word. His mother even faked a tear, patting it away after making sure the man had seen it.

Jeremy couldn't deal with the negative thoughts racing through his mind. Before he screamed out at them, he left for upstairs unnoticed, wishing he could just disappear. He was sure his parents would hope that too.

* * *

 **I'm sorry I haven't been uploading as often. I've been very busy with school work lately, and I've really lacked the motivation to write or draw. But, I am going to change that.**


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